Even So For Me A Vision Sanctified The Sway Of Death; Long Ere Mine Eyes Had Seen Thy Countenance, The Still Rapture Of Thy Mien When Thou, Dear Sister! Wert Become Death'S Bride: No Trace Of Pain Or Languor Could Abide That Change: Age On Thy Brow Was Smoothed Thy Cold Wan Cheek At Once Was Privileged To Unfold A Loveliness To Living Youth Denied. Oh! If Within Me Hope Should E'Er Decline, The Lamp Of Faith, Lost Friend! Too Faintly Burn; Then May That Heaven-Revealing Smile Of Thine, The Bright Assurance, Visibly Return: And Let My Spirit In That Power Divine Rejoice, As, Through That Power, It Ceased To Mourn.